It must really blow to be you
by Heavenmetal
Summary: Faculty fic. Casey's POV. *now complete*
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own The Faculty or Casey. I only pretend I do. This work of Fan dribble is meant entirely in fun. Dont sue!  
  
It must really blow to be you.  
  
*****  
  
I can't believe that it's been a week. Only one short week since killing the queen and saving this town, hell saving the world, that my life has already turned to shit.  
  
My parents sent me to a shrink. So much easier to deal with than the truth. Nope, there's no such things as aliens. Our little Casey just dreamed the whole thing. So what did I do when the doctor asked me about the aliens? I did what the rest of the town did. I went into denial. I told him that I made it all up to get attention. Now, the only reason I'm still seeing him is because he's convinced I have low self-esteem. Maybe I do. I mean, there's only so many times a guy can get beat up. If anything the beatings have gotten worse. Oh look! There's Crazy Casey, life's eternal little loser. We better pick him up and rack him into the flagpole again. Shit, if I was any more intimate with the flagpole I'd have to ask it if it wants to make a commitment.  
  
That's not even the worst of it.  
  
My Mom was cleaning out my room the other day. She found an empty pen in the pocket of one of my jeans. Then she has some doctor friend of hers who works at the free clinic tell her what those traces of white powder in it were. I was in deep shit as soon as I got home from school. Dad started yelling before I even got a chance to nurse the nosebleed someone had given me on the bus ride home. Mom just cried and kept saying "I knew it" over and over. To tell you the truth I don't know how it got in my jeans. I probably droped it in my pocket in the locker room after the second time I did Scat. I've never done it again after that night. I really *really* wanted to but I know that drugs are bad for you. Plus, Zeke's out of the business. They wouldn't listen to me. I'm not on drugs! I couldn't even tell them the whole truth. When my Dad asked "What are you doing with this?" I just stood there gaping like a fish. What was I supposed to say? "Gee Dad, I'm not on drugs. I just did it once so that I could fight the aliens." Oh yeah. That sounds *not* crazy.  
  
So, here I am locked in my room, only after Dad throughly scoured it for any pens. I wish I had someone to talk to. Delilah already stopped speaking to me. She told me that being around me reminded her too much of what happened. She still talks to Stan every day...bitch. I hear she's going out with Gabe. I tore down my pseudo-shrine to her the day I heard that and burned the pictures. Stan is too busy with his studies to talk to me outside school and too worried about his reputation to talk to me inside it. Stokely and Zeke are the only ones who act like any of this really happened. I need to hear someone else talk about it just so that I don't feel like I really have lost it. I'd call one of them now but Dad took my phone.  
  
I should have let the fucking alien take over. I thought I was gonna be a hero! Maybe have my face on a couple magazines or get interviewed by the local news! Something! This is some fuckin' gratitude. Sometimes I wonder about what Stan said that night, when he wasn't really Stan. Was Marybeth right? Could it really be like that? No fear? No pain? Would it have really been a better world? ...I doubt it. Once Stokely told me that it was only half right. There wasn't any fear or pain but there wasn't anything else either. She didn't have love or hate, or free will. They all had to do what Marybeth wanted. It all seemed very Borg to me. Stokely laughed when I said that.  
  
I need to get out of here. I try the window. Fuck! It's nailed shut. I knock on the door. "Dad? Mom? Is anyone there?" I call out. I really hope someone is home. I wouldn't put it past them to leave me here. A few moments later I hear feet coming up the stairs.  
  
"What is it son?" My Dad's voice answers.  
  
"I have to go to the bathroom." I really don't but I just need a change of scenery.  
  
"Hang on." he says. I near his footsteps go down the hall. There are a couple thuds and bangs. Great, I realize that he's searching the bathroom to see if I hid drugs there. I can hear my Mom say "check in the tank." My life really blows. A few seconds later I hear the lock click and the door swings open. Dad walks with me towards the bathroom, his hand has a deathgrip on my arm.  
  
After I close the bathroom door, I hear a thump and know that my Dad is leaning against the door. I slide down against the wall and just enjoy the fact that I'm not in my room. My eyes fall on my Dad's razor that resting on the edge of the sink. I stand slowly and walk towards it. I should be worried that Dad might think I'm taking too long but part of me doesn't care anymore. If Dad caught me trying to slit my own wrists that'd only mean more therapy sessions. I have to laugh at that. I pick up the razor and really think. Should I? ...No. I settle instead on a shave.  
  
After I'm all shaved, I shut the tap and knock on the door. Mom takes me back to my room. I try and walk extra steady so that she won't think I've got shakes from being in withdrawl. She hands me my dinner. Once the door shuts, I hear the phone ring downstairs and I listen. You can learn a lot about what your parents think about you from what they tell their friends. My Dad's voice is oddly lower than usual as he talks and I have to strain to hear. "...can't come to the phone. He's grounded. Fuck! I threw the plate of food down on my bed. I'm not hungry anymore. It really sucks to be me. 


	2. Breakthrough

Disclaimer: I still don't own this.  
  
  
  
It must really blow to be you: Breakthrough  
  
*****  
  
So, it's been another week in the hell that is my life and my shrink says I had a breakthrough. If, in some bizarre world inhabited by psychologists, "breakthrough" means "I freaked out and almost had a mental collapse in his office" then, yeah, I guess I had a breakthrough.  
  
I've been going to these pointless meetings three times a week. I never tell him anything. I just sit there in silence for an hour, answering all his questions by shrugging, until he says time is up. This day was different though. It should have been a normal Sunday. My parents dropped me off at his office and I took a seat on the couch. As he was closing the door, I realized how desperately I did not want the door to be closed. It wasn't that I was afraid of being alone with him. I just couldn't stand the thought of being trapped in another room. I couldn't say anything, though. It felt like my throat had closed up and I couldn't breathe. I suppose being locked in my room for a week made me claustrophobic. I was hyperventilating. The doctor asked me if I was all right and if I could breathe. I shook my head no, unable to force enough breath out of me to make words. He calmly opened the window and door and I tried to get my breathing under control.  
  
He waited patiently for me to calm down. I looked at him, half expecting to see one of those pity-concern looks that Delilah always gives me in the hallway at school when she isn't around anyone. I don't see it. Instead he's got no readible expression at all, the perfect "I'm a professional" look. And I just crack up laughing. I couldn't help it. After a minute I couldn't tell if I was laughing or sobbing. I buried my face in my hands. Yeah, I was crying now. The dam just broke. This had been building up for over two weeks and the doctor just lets it happen, doesn't say anything, doesn't move. When I finally regained control of myself he said "Tell me what's wrong."  
  
I couldn't stop myself. Everything had been so horrible and I told him almost everything. I told him about the beatings I got at school and how my friends were slowing distancing themselves from me, told him how I hated these sessions and how uncomfortable they made me. I told him how every time I walked into the bathroom I seriously considered suicide, how my parents didn't trust me and had me locked away like some prisoner. He seemed surprised at that. That was the first emotion I managed to get out of this guy. He stopped me and asked why my parents would do that. I told him about how they found the pen and realized what was in it. He asked me how long I'd been clean. I told him the truth, two weeks. I hadn't touched the stuff since the first time I tried it and wasn't planning on going back to it. By then the hour was up and he told me I should be proud of myself and that I had a breakthrough. He talked to my parents alone for a few minutes.  
  
I don't know what he said but I really need to thank him. As soon as I got home, I had expected to be escorted to my room. It was almost a habit to me but Dad walked into the living room and Mom went into the kitchen to make dinner while I stood in the doorway. To say I was confused was an understatement. I stood there until Dad told me to close the door. They told me that they were sorry that they'd been so hard on me. I was still grounded but I wasn't on full lock down anymore. I got my phone and my music back. The first thing I did was sprawl on the couch and watch tv. Dad had the remote but I didn't really care. I was just too happy to be somewhere that wasn't my room, the bathroom, or school. That afternoon, I called Stokely and told her everything. I toned down the part about my breakdown (or through) so that I wouldn't get the pity look from her when I saw her. Zeke stopped by to say hi and drop off a pile of comics on loan from Stokely. "And a little gift from me" he added with a wink. I guess he feels guilty about giving me Scat in the first place.  
  
This day was the brightest point of the past two weeks (not counting when I was tweaked). I spent the whole evening reading comics. Stokely may be weird at times but she has damn good taste in reading material. The comics were mostly sci-fi and fantasy; many X-files comics, a couple Tales From the Crypt, the collected edition of Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, and a few issues of Poison Elves. Finally, at the bottom of the stack, were three porno mags. Thank you, Zeke! You are my hero.  
  
School the next day was a different story...  
  
I didn't have my camera with me. It had been broken while, surprise, I was getting my ass kicked. I hadn't had the money to repair or replace it. Until I could, I was off the paper. Which was good because I didn't have to face Delilah but bad because it meant I couldn't stash my stuff in the computer lab. Which meant I was forced to use my locker which meant more time in the hallway which increased my chances of getting a beat down. So, I was getting books out of my locker when Stan, Gabe, and a two other guys from the football started coming down the hallway. I took a step closer to my locker to get out of their way. It was useless. As they walked by, one of them shoved me hard. My face contacted with the cold metal edge of the locker door and pain shot through my mouth. I tasted the blood I knew was there from my split lip and I tried to shove down my anger. I looked over my shoulder at them and saw the four of them walking away, laughing. Stan was giving me the pity face that I hate so much and I just snapped.  
  
I ran after them and shoved one of them. He stumbled a step then stopped short. When he stopped all four of them did and as soon as he turned around, I punched him in the throat. Sure, it was a cheap shot but he imediately went down, gasping. "I'm not taking any more shit!" I yelled, not feeling nearly as awkward as I should have in the crowded hall. I swear I heard a couple people clapping and at least one person yell "Go Casey!". I didn't have much time to enjoy it before I was slammed into the lockers and pinned there by one pissed off linebacker. "You are so dead, ditchweed." Over this goon's shoulder I could see Stan holding Gabe back. "You're gonna apologize to my friend right now, you scrawny little shit- bag."  
  
I realized that there was no way I was going to get out of this without some pain involved so I took a gamble. I closed my eyes and mumbled. "I'm sorry." When I opened my eyes the goon was smirking at me. "I'm sorry that you assholes were stupid enough to fuck with me!" I yelled. He was too stunned to react for a moment and I took full advantage by kneeing him in the groin. It's not like I have any significant strength so I doubt I'd be doing any damage if it weren't for these cheap shots I was taking. As he fell, I jumped on him and just started punching. I heard shouting comming from somewhere, all around it seemed. Someone grabbed me from behind. I jabbed back with my elbow and the hands released me. I just kept doing a number on this jerk's face and it felt so good! It took three teachers to pull me off of him.  
  
When I could think straight again, Coach Willis had me in a half-nelson and I could see that the new science teacher had a swollen eye. Shit, that must've been who I elbowed. I stammered my apologies to him repeatedly and he wandered to the nurses office, taking the goon with him. Coach walked me to the office, trying to hide a smile. I guess it is kinda funny, "Crash and Burn Casey" wailing on a football player. I sigh contentedly to myself despite the fact that I'm in deep shit right now. I laugh out loud and Coach looks at me. "Ya know," I mumble "I always wanted to do that."  
  
TBC  
  
A/N: Yeah I know Casey's a wee bit out of character here but there's only so far you can bend something before it snaps, right?...things only get weirder for him from here. Thanks muchly to the people who have reviewed so far. (But I really hope more than four people have read this!) 


	3. Ultimatum

Disclaimer: I still don't own this.  
  
  
  
It must really blow to be you: Ultimatum  
  
*****  
  
So, here I am in the office staring at our new principal, an icepack on my lip. I find it slighty odd that he doesn't have a nameplate on his desk. I know he told me his name when I came in but damned if I can remember. The initial rush of finally standing up for myself has worn off and the reality of the situation crashes in. I am in deep shit. My parents are gonna kill me.  
  
"This isn't the first time you've been in this office for a disturbance. Is it, Mr. Connor?"  
  
"No, Sir." My throat feels dry. Thankfully, the door is open. If I wasn't I might start hyperventilating.  
  
"Normally the penalty for fighting is three days out of school suspension and we will have to notify your parents."  
  
I stay silent just repeating the mantra of "fuck fuck fuck fuck" over and over in my mind. If my parents find out about this...I'm as good as dead. Things will be worse than before...FUCK!  
  
"But luckily for you," the new principal explains "Coach Willis has come up with something more constructive."  
  
I takes a few seconds for my brain to register that. Coach moves from his spot by the door to stand over by the desk where he can look me in the eye. "Casey, I always said we could use your speed. Our track team is trailing this year and I think you'd be a positive addition."  
  
Well...that was random... Where are they going with this? "I'm not really into sports."  
  
"Maybe you're not understanding us, son. If you join the track team then we'll overlook this one tiny infraction and forgo your punishment. That's the ultimatum."  
  
Wow... I really wasn't expecting this. "Isn't this kind of like blackmailing me?"  
  
"Think of it as manditory participation."Coach smiles. I glance at the principal and he nods.  
  
"Thank you, sirs!" I said. This is great! My parents never have to know.  
  
"Well, this is the first time I've seen you in here and I hope it's the last. Is that clear?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"But if this happens again, the gloves are off and we call the police."  
  
"I understand. Thank you." I stand shake their hands and walk out.  
  
By this time it's lunch, I make my way through empty halls to the cafeteria, then grab a seat by Stokely. "Hey Stokes." I smile weakly not wanting to reopen my split lip.  
  
"Hey Case, Stan told me about the fight. Are you all right?"  
  
Before I can answer a hand falls heavily on my shoulder. I look over at its owner and recognize a smiling Zeke. "How ya doing there, Ali?"He laughs taking a seat next to me. "Man! I can't believe you took down Trevor and Josh. That's awesome!" His voice seems overly loud even the the noisy cafeteria. I avoid the few stares we get.  
  
"I'm here too." Stokely mumbles.  
  
"Hey Stokes. Can I have your milk?" She sighs in mock annoyance and hands him the container. He continues, "Dude they are so pissed." Zeke laughs again and opens the tiny carton.  
  
"Why should they be pissed? They had it comming." Stokely added.  
  
"Because," Zeke emphasised the word, "They get a three day suspension that starts wednesday which means that they miss the game on friday, while little Casey here gets nothing." He ruffles my hair and I lightly smack his arm away.  
  
"Not nothing." I throw in. "They're making me join the track team."  
  
"I never pictured you for a jock." Stokely says, half-joking.  
  
"Hey Case, can I have your roll?" I pass it to him. "Don't worry. You'll be used to those tiny shorts."  
  
"Shut up" I say but I can't help smiling.  
  
Stokely returns to reading the "hitchhikers guide to the galaxy". I eat the poor excuse for what the school considers food. Thinking about the turnaround my life has undergone. There isn't much time for that though as Zeke jumps back into conversation.  
  
"Stokes..." he sing-songs "Can I have your pudding?"  
  
Stokely slams shut her book and, ignoring Zeke, looks right at me. "Casey, You're on the honor roll. You're smart, right? Explain something to me. Why is it that this guy here makes more money selling contraband to the student body than the faculty makes teaching it and yet he's always mooching off of us?"  
  
Zeke pretends to be hurt by her words then bursts into grinning again. "You know me. I'm a contradiction."  
  
"No, a contradiction is Casey being a jock."  
  
"I'll never be like them." I spit out.  
  
Zeke's smile fades. "Hey, I know what you mean but we're not all like that."  
  
"You know I didn't mean you Zeke."  
  
"And what about Stan?" Stokely asks.  
  
I can't help the bitter laugh that breaks from me. Stokely only raises an eyebrow in question. "Stokes, Stan was at the fight today. He didn't lift a finger to help me."  
  
"Bullshit. He held Gabe back from kicking your ass."  
  
I feel my anger build. "What about Trevor and Josh? He didn't try stopping them. He never even said a word! Don't stick up for him just because he's your boyfriend. I don't know why you two are together. The Jock and the Loner, It's too Breakfast Club." I regret the words before they're even all the way out of my mouth. Stokely's face goes pale.  
  
"Whoa, chill out" Zeke seems as stunned as I am.  
  
"Forget it." Stokely gathers her stuff and stands. She walks away without saying a word.  
  
"Shit." I mutter. I really don't know what made me say that to her. I just got so pissed when she was defending Stan.  
  
"I'll talk to her man." Zeke says.  
  
I smile my thanks. Suddenly his whole body stiffens as if he just remembered something. "Shit! What time is it?"  
  
I glance at my watch. "ten minutes before the bell."  
  
He stands. "I have business, my friend."  
  
"I thought you were done with all that."  
  
"Are you kidding me? Do you know much dough I rake in? I just stopped making and selling Scat. See ya."  
  
I go back to eating my lunch, trying to stay inconspicuous. My life is so much easier when people ignore me. A flash of something white flies into my field of vision. I look down at the table to see a folded up note. Quickly grabbing it off the table, I glance up to see a girl walking away. I know who it is even though I only see her from behind...It's Delilah. She tossed me a note without even bothering to look at me...such an ice queen. I stare dumbly at the folded paper in my hand. I really thought I was over her. But staring at the familiar script I've seen so many times on post-it notes attached to articles that need editing I feel my stomach turn. No. I'm not anywhere close to over. My finger traces the writing, noting the heart she used to dot the "I" in her name.  
  
I leave quickly, note in hand, and find a deserted hall. I unfold the note carefully. It's blunt, so very Delilah.  
  
Casey,  
  
Meet me in the library tomorrow before lunch.  
  
Delilah.  
  
~TBC~  
  
yay! another chapter done. I'm going to try to have one chapter a week. I'm sure I can do it once finals are over. Thank you to all the people who reviewed (and to all the people who read this and don't review cause nobody ever thanks them.) I need reviews. I need them or I will explode. That happens to me sometimes... 


	4. I should feel...

Disclaimer: I still don't own this.  
  
  
  
It must really blow to be you: I should feel...  
  
*****  
  
It's Tuesday. I'm nervous. I don't know what I think about meeting with Delilah today. A part of me *really* wants to go to her, while another part (a more sensible part) wants to blow her off. I've somehow reasoned to myself that I'm only going to hear her out. I bet she wants something. Why else would she want to see me? It's not like she likes me. I'm not going to delude myself anymore.  
  
The bus hits a bump and I clutch my new camera protectively to keep it from falling. I look it over to make sure it's ok. Still not a scratch on it and I smile. My dad got it for me, his way of a present for joining the track team. I should feel guilty that I didn't tell him I was forced to join the team. I don't. He didn't even notice my injuries yesterday so for now I just enjoy the feel of a camera in my hands, my fingers lingering over the shutter.  
  
When we reach the school, I get off the bus and I'm halfway to the front door of the school when I feel something strange. I an't describe it really. It's just this very twillight zone-ish feeling of something being not right. I can't quite put my finger on it until I reach my locker. Then it hits me....  
  
Everyone's left me alone.  
  
Not *one* person has hit me or even insulted me all day. I should feel happy. Right? Since first grade that's all I've ever wanted. Now, that it's happened, though, I feel strange, paranoid even. This is so much worse. Now I have to wait for it. I know they'll come eventually. This peace won't last. Are Josh and Trevor planning something? I dismiss it. Not that it isn't a very likely possibility but too much introspection isn't good.  
  
I stow my camera in my locker (hidden in my bagged lunch buried under my gym clothes) and head towards the art room. I tell the art teacher that I'm available to work on the paper if I'm still needed. She seems happy at that. She also tells me that she thinks I should put together a portfolio of my best pictures. If the department heads approve my portfolio, I'll be placed in the advanced photography class. I walk out of her room stunned.  
  
Then I bump into Stokely...literally. The books fall out of my arms. I start to say something to her but Stokely just gives me a dirty look and pushes past me without a word. She's still pissed and apparently not talking to me either. Shit. I have to straighten things out with her. I quickly gather my fallen books and by the time I stand again, she's gone....SHIT.  
  
Yes, this day is getting more complicated by the minute. The part of me that says meeting with Delilah is a bad idea gets a little louder. I'm not looking forward to seeing my shrink today, I think as I slump into my chair for homeroom. Therapist, I really shouldn't say shrink. I think I like the word therapist better, though. It sounds so very pretencious. It makes it sound more like I'm going to some spa or something. Ok, now I'm just mentally rambling.  
  
I look down at my notebook, which I don't remember opening. Staring back at me is a page full of doodles and one named scrawled over and over. Delilah Proffitt. I'm obessesing, aren't I? Why can't I just forget about her? I know we won't end up together, not in a million years.  
  
I hate myself sometimes.  
  
My morning passes with the same creepy freedom. No taunting, no injuries, my heart is pounding and my palms feel sweaty. Why am I so scared? Maybe because I know it's comming eventually. I don't know when or how but it'll be bad. The bell rings. I shake my head. Trying, for the moment at least, to rid myself of these thoughts and gather my books. Time to meet Delilah.  
  
There's hardly anyone in the library when I enter. I head towards the back of the library, knowing Delilah would never meet me where people could see us together. There's still no sign of her. Suddenly someone grabs my arm and yanks me into one of the rows. My startled (and very unmanly) yelp is muffled by a hand over my mouth.  
  
I quickly turn around. Delilah pulls her hand away from my mouth and places a perfectly manicured finger over her lips in a gesture that clearly says 'shhhh'. "Geez, Del!" I whisper "You could have just called my name, you know."  
  
"I didn't want to draw attention." She says, looking around suspiciously.  
  
"I almost had a heart attack." I try to get my heartrate under control.  
  
"Well, if you're so fragile maybe you shouldn't be joining the track team."  
  
"So you heard?"  
  
She merely nods.  
  
"Is that what this is about? You don't think I can be on the track team, do you?" I have a hard time keeping the bitterness out of my voice.  
  
"Of course, I don't." She smiles, smirks really "I mean, just look at you. You're short. You're skinny. Let's face it, you're not that strong. And you can't be all that fast considering that you take all those beatings instead of running away from them and-"  
  
"Enough!" I cut her off. She looks startled. "Look, if you just came here for a nostalgic game of bash Casey then I'm leaving." I turn but before I can take a step, I feel her hand on my arm. God, her skin is so soft.  
  
"Wait." I face her again. She has this adorable little pout on her face...I am so weak. She continues as soon as she has my attention, "Look, that's not what I came here for. ok? This is much more serious."  
  
I lean back against the bookshelf. "Let's get right down to it, Delilah. What do you want?"  
  
"I heard Gabe and some guys talking. They have something really bad planned for you."  
  
My heart jumps. I knew it but why is she warning me... "What is it?"  
  
"I don't know. I didn't catch enough of their conversation." She still has that pout. I notice that her hand is still on my arm, gently moving back and forth across one area of my forearm. I try to ignore the tightening in my groin and look at her eyes. I don't like what I see there. It's like she knows some joke that I don't get.  
  
...  
  
She's playing with me.  
  
I scoff. She's trying to pull me into some kind of game but I'm not playing. "Right. Thanks Delilah. Bye." I leave my voice flat and turn away from her once more.  
  
"Dammit, Case. Would you just listen to me! As a friend?"  
  
I feel my anger rise at that. And I whirl on her, stalking forward to close he space between us. "As a Friend? When have we ever been friends Delilah? When have you ever come down off your oh-so-pristene white horse to consider me a friend?" I hiss at her.  
  
She looks worried, maybe I'm scaring her. She still hasn't answered me. I keep moving forward and she backs up until she bumps into the bookshelf. I put my hands on the bookshelf on either side of her head so that she's boxed in. Maybe now she's taking me seriously. "I know the answer." I whisper. I'm close enough to smell her. She smells good. Another wave of self-loathing washes over me as I'm caught between loving and hating this girl in front of me. "Because you told me what you really think of me." And I bring to my mind all the words that have been haunting me for over two weeks. "Class wuss, eternal little loser who comes to school every day knowing that this is it. You've been labeled pathetic since first grade and you're afraid it's going to bleed over for the rest of your life."  
  
I look into her eyes. She looks upset...or pissed. I can't really tell because I've never seen her upset. She shakes her head. "They were right when they said you lost it." She pushes my arm away and storms away from me, calling back, "You're going to get it, Casey. It's gonna come hard and fast and it'll bury you."  
  
I feel empty...  
  
TBC  
  
Sorry this one was late. Oh so much angst! hehe More to come! 


	5. The Boys Room

Sorry for the long delay in this chapter. I'm very easily distracted by other things; work, friends, shiny objects...you get the idea. Well, I've seen Star Wars:episode 2 and Spiderman so now I can bring you another chapter. ENJOY!!  
  
Disclaimer: I still don't own this.  
  
  
  
It must really blow to be you: The Boys Room  
  
*****  
  
Wednesday. If I was paranoid yesterday about everyone leaving me alone, I shouldn't be scared anymore. Everything seems to be back to my fucked up version of normal (meaning that I got the crap kicked out of me and I've been humiliated enough to make me remember why I still need a therapist).  
  
It started as soon as I got off the bus this morning. A group of guys grabbed me and threw me into the dumpster (which made me grateful that I left my camera at home today). It could have been worse. It could have been the flagpole again. I missed my first period class because a couple guys decided to give me a beat-down and shove me in my locker. The janitor let me out before the second period bell rang. I ate lunch on the bleachers just to get away from everyone. I haven't seen Zeke or Stokely yet today, besides I think she's still pissed at me. After lunch, I got jumped in the boys room by Josh and Trevor. They smashed my head into the wall, repeatedly, until Mr. Tate walked in.  
  
So that brings us to the here and now. I'm skipping class. I have a pounding headache and I'm bleeding from several places on my face. I look in the mirror and take note of each cut. There's a gash on my forhead, one on my nose, a couple on my cheek, my lip split again and I'm almost glad I can't see the back of my head because....ow. I try my best to clean the cuts with a wet paper towel. I can't seem to tear my eyes away from the spot where those two jocks pounded my skull into the wall. Shit. They actually broke tiles (which is how my face got cut up).  
  
I can't even really describe how I feel right now. I feel so angry, at everyone, at myself... People always used to wonder why I never stood up for myself. Today was a good reminder. If I do, it makes it worse. If I just lie down and take the abuse it's over so much quicker. If you fight back, they only get more pleasure out of breaking you down. I thought yesterday, after my chat with Delilah, that I couldn't possibly feel any more shitty. Apparently whatever cruel gods exist decided that I should be proven wrong. Today makes yesterday looks like a fucking walk in the park.  
  
And to think I saved these people...  
  
I hear the door open and look over my shoulder to see who it is. I sigh in relief when I notice it's just Zeke. He's got someone with him so he must be doing buisness. The guy with him is someone I've seen around before. He's got short light-brown hair that's really curly and these weird sunglasses. [Author's note: The guy is supposed to be the one from the beginning of the movie that buys a fake ID off of Zeke. You know who I mean. He's the guy who's on "That 70's Show"-L]  
  
Zeke smiles at me for the briefest of seconds before it melts into something more shocked. "Man, you look like shit!" he remarks. I shrug, my eyes still focused on the wall of newly broken tiles behind him. He follows my gaze and mutters something that sounds like "fuckin' christ". He gestures to his customer to wait and walks over to me. Taking the paper towel out of my hand, he turns me around and takes care of the gash on the back on my head. I let him. I really appreciate this...help without pity. He's a good friend. He ignores me when I mumble that he doesn't need to do this.  
  
I can tell that his customer is getting impatient. He keeps glancing at the door and shifting his weight from foot to foot. He growls. "C'mon, man! Do you have it or not?"  
  
"Give me a sec." Zeke mumbles, his hands still shifting through my hair to remove bits of plaster and ceramic.  
  
The guy walks over, pushing me aside roughly. Not wanting to start anymore trouble, I stifle a groan as my hip smashes into the sink. "I didn't come here to watch you play fucking nursemaid to this loser." he says.  
  
Zeke, looking none to happy, grabs the guy by the collar. "Call my friend a loser one more time and we never to buisness again. Capice?"  
  
The guy nods and Zeke lets him go. "I have it. It's gonna cost you fifty."  
  
"Fifty!?"  
  
"You think it's easy to find bootlegs of movies that aren't even in theaters yet? It's Fifty."  
  
He growls again. "I have forty on me."  
  
"Too bad. I'll only take fifty." I can't help but smile. Zeke is ruthless sometimes, especially when it comes to money.  
  
"Let me finish! I only have forty but I have a couple of these." He holds up two strangely familiar looking pens.  
  
Zeke rolls his eyes. "I don't deal in that shit anymore, man. I told you that. Those are worthless to me. Look, why don't you try selling those to someone and come back with the money. Casey, come with me."  
  
I follow Zeke out of the bathroom, slightly shocked. "Where the hell are we going?"  
  
"To my car. I've been looking for you all day."  
  
"...looking for me?"  
  
"Yeah." He doesn't offer up any furthur explaination so I follow him in silence through the halls and across the parking lot.  
  
When we reach his car, he pulls open the passenger side door and shoves me inside. "Stay here." he growls "and don't move, no matter what."  
  
I raise an eyebrow in question. How serious is this situation? ...whatever it is Zeke just slams the door and walks around the car. Now I'm confused and just a bit scared. Zeke gets something from the trunk. Then walks back towards the school. I feel a little bit of relief when Zeke comes back a few minutes later with a pissed off Stokely in tow. He stands by the door and pulls it open, his other hand on Stokely's arm so she can't just walk away.  
  
"I have nothing to say to him." Stokely protests  
  
"Good. Then just listen." Zeke responds. Then Zeke turns to me. I haven't left the seat. "Get out."  
  
"You told me not to move. No. Matter. What." I say. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know how childish me and Stokes are being but there's a principle behind this....I just don't remember what it was.  
  
"Look, both of you," he starts. "I'm sick of this. You two are practically best friends and you're acting like kids. Either make up or I'm killing the both of you." I laugh weakly until I see that Stokely has gone pale...well, paler then usual. I follow her gaze to where it rests at Zeke's waist and my eyes widen when I notice what she'd been staring at. Zeke has his gun tucked into the waistband of his pants. Shit...he's fucking serious.  
  
Neither of us has said anything . We're just too dumbstruck by these rather extreme tactics. Zeke smirks at us. "Apologize." He says.  
  
Fine. I want this fight to be over. I hate that Stokely is mad at me. "Stokes," I start, she glares at me. She probably thinks I'm going to give some half-assed apology but I really want this to be sincere. "I'm sorry. I really am. I don't know what made me say those stupid things but I didn't really mean them. Stan's a good guy and I'm glad you two are happy together. I'm an ass, please forgive me."  
  
She has a small smile on her face. "You compared our relationship to The Breakfast Club." she says, feigning a pout.  
  
"Stokes, you and Zeke are the only two people on my short list of close friends. Please don't cut that list in half."  
  
For a second she looks shocked, like she wasn't expecting something so honest. "Ok," she smiles. "I'm sorry that I over-reacted."  
  
We hug and I feel....just amazing. This is the high point of my day. I got my friend back and despite all the shit that's happened to me today I can't help but smile.  
  
"Zeke?" Stokely says.  
  
I look over at him and see him grinning madly "yeah."  
  
"Put that fucking thing away! God damned psycho!" Stokely yells.  
  
He tosses the gun into his car. "Relax. It wasn't even loaded."  
  
"Wasn't loaded!?! You are scary sometimes. You do know that, right?"  
  
"You want scary? Go talk to Delilah when she's PMSing."  
  
We all laugh at that and head back to school. Stokely suddenly stands in front of me and peers into my face. "What happned to your face?"  
  
"Trevor and Josh."  
  
"Assholes." She mutters.  
  
"Tell me about it."  
  
"By the way Case," She says, nudging me on the arm. "You do know that if this was like The Breakfast Club, You'd end up alone."  
  
I nod. "But that would also mean that Zeke would be dating Delilah."  
  
"I shudder to think..." says Zeke  
  
Stokes and I hug again and she dashes off to class just as the bell rings and the hall floods with people. Zeke grabs my arm and pulls me into the bathroom.  
  
"How's your head?"  
  
I touch the sore spot on the back of my head. "It hurts like a bitch but I'll be ok. Thanks for that...out there."  
  
He lights up a cigarette. "It needed doing. Deperate times, ya know?"  
  
"Well, thanks, I guess."  
  
"The other reason I needed to find you was to give you a message from Coach."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah," Zeke took another drag and exhaled through his nose. "You have your first practice tomorrow. Coach wants to get your times. Shit like that."  
  
"Ok, cool."  
  
He puts what's left of his cigarette out on his shoe "I gotta go. Watch your back, man."  
  
I stand alone in the boys room, thinking 'just what the hell did he mean by that?'  
  
TBC  
  
*****  
  
YAY! I finally got another chapter done. I think maybe now would be a good time to explain some things and respond to some of the great reviews I've been getting. (THANK YOU TO ALL MY REVIEWERS!)  
  
Firstly, To earthluver28: sorry but there will be much much more hurting Casey. If you haven't noticed yet, I love torturing the poor bugger.  
  
To Captain Swoots. Congrats on getting this movie it's own catagory!  
  
To Ashley, thank you for liking my story enough to bug me about writing more.  
  
To Pooka, rest easy Casey's camera is safe.  
  
To Twitteringpig, I agree with you 100%. I would rather have my eyeballs burnt out then to see Casey and Deiliah end up together. The only two parts of the movie's ending I hated were 1) when Stokely was dressed like a prep (in pastels, for fuck's sake!) No one goes from goth to prep in a month...no one! and 2) that Casey and Delilah ended up together. That's so unrealistic. Delilah dumps Stan just cause he's not a football player anymore so why would she turn to someone she thinks is a geek? She's too shallow to go out with Casey. She said it herself, head cheerleaders only date star quarterbacks. (Btw, did you know if you do Delilah's numerology there's a 666 in her last name? It's true.)  
  
So anyways, let me be perfectly blunt. I have one more chapter planned but after that who knows where I'm going with this. Any suggestions are welcome and will be carefully considered. Thank you!! 


	6. Confrontation

I used FF.net's temporary shut-down as an excuse to not write...bad me. On the plus side, I figured out the ending to this story.  
  
...it's gonna be bad  
  
Disclaimer: I still don't own this.  
  
*~WARNING!!!WARNING!!!WARNING!!!WARNING!!!WARNING!!!WARNING!!!WARNING!!!WARN ING!!!~* LOTS OF BAD STUFF HAPPENS IN THIS CHAPTER! The faint of heart may want to skip this chapter. It contains Casey torture, violence, non-con drug use, and obscure/bizarre references. This is your last chance to turn back... you sure you want to read it? ...ok, you've been warned....ENJOY!  
  
Hey, Does anyone else have the urge to call Casey's dad "Shooter"?  
  
It must really blow to be you: Confrontation  
  
*****  
  
Thursday. First I think I should mention how not surprised I was at my parents' lack of reaction to my injuries last night. My dad dropped me off at school early this morning. Now, I wait outside on the school commons for Stokes, making sure I stay well out of everyone's notice. I'm passing the minutes by taking random pictures. I might get a few that I could add to my portfolio. I spot Stokely accross the commons, absorbed by a sci-fi novel and run over until I'm directly in front of her, then I snap a picture. She stops dead, startled by the flash, and rubs her eyes.  
  
"Damnit!" She yells. I laugh and she glares at me.  
  
"Case, you are the only person who can get away with shit like that in my book." I say nothing, just smile, and she continues. "Who the hell are you supposed to be anyway? Pecker?"  
  
I roll my eyes. "C'mon! I'm not that bad. It's not like I'm taking shots of rats mating or anything."  
  
"Too bad. Cause there they are." She points towards the entrance of the school where the fuck-you girl is verbally abusing her boyfriend. We laugh and head inside. As I follow Stokes to her locker, she looks over my face. "Casey, I got a question. I thought that Trevor and Josh's suspension started yesterday. So how did they jump you in the bathroom when they weren't even supposed to be here?"  
  
"The suspension didn't start until after lunch. They jumped me right before they left the building." I look at the ground as I answer. Reminiscing about my beatings isn't what I consider friendly banter, but the comment makes me think harder about Zeke's warning yesterday. What did he mean by it?  
  
Unfortunately, I don't get to see him until after school and when I do it's in the locker room. I feel very self-conscious when I notice that the locker room is filled with football players. So I don't get to talk to Zeke, not as long as those football goons are hanging all around him. I keep glancing in his direction, hoping to get his attention as discretely as possible.  
  
One of the guys notices though and nudges Zeke. "Hey, that fag over there keeps staring at you. I think he wants to be your girlfriend."  
  
Zeke looks over at me then back to his teammate. "Two things." Zeke suddenly slams the guy back against the lockers. "One, that's my friend and I don't appreciate the joke. Two, I hate that f-word. Use it again around me and see what happens." (Author's note: I hate that word too. -L )  
  
The guy looks stunned. "Okay, man. Chill." He walks away, headed towards the field, trying to look cool. I just stare at the scene. That's the second time Zeke has put someone in check for me. Zeke walks over. "Hey, Casey. I'd love to stay to watch you run but I got detention."  
  
"Really? What for?"  
  
"Miss Burke finally nailed me for skipping class."  
  
I raise an eyebrow at this. "Burke? I didn't think she had it in her to give anyone detention."  
  
Zeke smiled and scratched the back of his head "I just bring out the best in people, I guess. Catch ya later, man."  
  
Practice isn't too bad. I think I may actually get to like being on the track team. It's easy to forget everything and just run. It's also more fun when you're not being chased by an entire football time being possessed by aliens. After taking note of some of my times, Coach told me when practice for track takes place (every thursday) and told me to hit the showers.  
  
Just as I get changed, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I just know that someone is staring at me. I turn around slowly. Gabe is standing not two aisles away from me, leaning casually against the lockers. "So you think you're on the team, now, huh? You actually think you- " he laughed "are a Hornet."  
  
"I don't-" I'm cut off and slammed against the lockers. Gabe looks pissed.  
  
"I heard you were talking to Deliliah the other day. Whatever you said to her made her upset. So, Let's get something straight, all right? She's my girl. You don't go anywhere near her without my permission. You don't talk to her, you don't look at her, you don't even have wet dreams about her, understand?!" In stunned silence, I slowly nod. Gabe suddenly goes from furious to smug "You want to know why she's my girl?"  
  
Sometimes my mouth has this weird habit of saying whatever's on my mind at the worst of times. This must be one of them. "Because she likes it your way?" (Author's note: hehehe I had to pick on Usher. -L )  
  
Oh look, he's back to pissed. "Oh, you think you're funny? That's cool. I got one for you. Tell me what you think." He whistles sharply and two figures step out... Trevor and Josh!?! oh shit.  
  
"No Zeke or Stan to help you now." Trevor laughs.  
  
I shove Gabe and try to make a break for it but Josh grabs me from behind. One of his huge, gorilla-like arms is squeezing the air out of my lungs and keeping me from using my arms, his other is wrapped around me and his hand is covering my mouth. I struggle futilely. Gabe is standing in front of me. In a blur of motion, his arm swings out and I feel his class ring smash into my temple. For a brief second, I see only white before pain fills my senses. I hear shouting and try to ignore the ringing in my ear to make out what they're saying.  
  
"...missing a game because of you! And you get to join the track team?! Fuck that! How the fuck is that fair? We're going to teach you a lesson, pussy!"  
  
Trevor reaches into his jacket, probably for a weapon. Fuck! They're fucking going to kill me! I renew my struggle only to be rewarded with a kick to the groin. White hot agony spreads through my limbs. My breath catches in my throat, my vision goes blurry, my eyes water and I just want to puke or pass out but Josh is still holding me in some kind of weird death grip.  
  
I groan in pain and slowly look up. Trevor finally pulls out whatever it was he was reaching for. He steps close and holds up two tiny slim objects. It takes me a while to focus my vision...something blue and white.  
  
"You know what this is?" Gabe chuckles.  
  
They're pens... pens filled with something white... That's... My eyes just widen.  
  
"I don't know exactly what it is. But it's not really important. When we give you this all we have to do is run and get Coach. When he sees you tripping your balls off, you'll be lucky if all he does is kick you off the team."  
  
I almost have to give them credit. I didn't think jocks could actually plan out revenge like this. So I get them suspended and they get me expelled. Bastards. Well, I'll show them. All I have to do is not inhale it.  
  
Trevor uncaps the pen and places it under my right nostril, then places his finges against my left nostril. Fuck! I'm in a bad way here. Josh's monster- sized hand is still holding my mouth so either I inhale the scat or pass out from lack of oxygen.  
  
Well, no point in delaying this. I snort quickly but they don't let me go. Gabe pinches my nose shut as he uncaps the second pen with his teeth. The echo of the pen cap hitting the floor seems to go on and on. I squirm against Josh's hold. I need AIR dammit! As soon as I feel Gabe let go of my nose, I take a deep breath of much needed air into my abused lungs...and another hit of scat. I try and stand still while I gasp for breath, my nose feels like it's buring. Josh suddenly let's go and backs away from me.  
  
Without Josh holding me up, I fall pitifully to the ground. I press my forehead to the cold cement floor and moan. No one has run to get Coach yet. They're still chuckling at me. So, I wait for what I know will happen. The burning in my nostril quickly becomes almost an itch. Then, there's that sensation that something big is going to happen, like the way your stomach drops right before a roller coaster takes that first dive, or like the way your whole body tenses before an orgasm. Then I'm there. I know I'm there because nothing really matters anymore. I feel almost giddy. I stifle a laugh because I know that if I start then I won't stop. The guys are still there, talking about me.  
  
"You sure that wasn't too much?"  
  
"Since when are you so fucking concerned?"  
  
"We just want to get him off the team, man. It's not like we want to kill him."  
  
"Jesus fuck... look at him. What the hell is in that shit?"  
  
"Nevermind that. Where the fuck did you get it?"  
  
"Some dickhead stonner sold it to me."  
  
"Shit, man."  
  
I try to stand and they laugh at me some more. After a few attempts, I finally make it to my feet. The room is spinning on me and I shut my eyes tight against it. There's a sound in my head like dozens of pen caps falling. Someone calls my name and I turn around. Actually, I try to turn around but end up falling down. That does it. I lay on my back on the floor of the locker room and laugh my ass off. I don't know why it's so funny but it is. I don't know where the jocks are either. Hey, there's a big guy standing over me. He's saying something but it sounds too much like the teachers in those Charlie Brown cartoons. You know what I mean, "wah wah wah wah".  
  
Whoever it is helps me stand and mumbles more at me. I wish they'd shut up and let me enjoy my trip. I mean, last time I did scat I was fighting aliens. I wonder if Charlie Brown ever had to fight aliens. I get a mental image on Linus attacking Marybeth by snapping his blanket at her. I laugh some more. I'm moving now. Whoever helped me up is moving me somewhere. Does he know that I stopped an alien invasion? It sounds even weirder inside my head. I saved the Earth. Me! I'm like Tom Skerritt or Kevin McCarthy. Think I can get a chick like Ann Francis?  
  
Probably not.  
  
I feel really tired now. I feel myself slipping into darkness. I think I might pass out. I'm afraid...  
  
but then, I'd rather be afraid.  
  
*****  
  
TA-DA! Took me damn long enough. Just one more chapter is gonna wrap this whole thing up, I think. I'm so evil so very very evil. hehehehe Please review! 


	7. Resolution

Disclaimer: I still don't own this.  
  
Hey, Does anyone else have the urge to call Casey's dad "Shooter"?  
  
It must really blow to be you: Resolution  
  
*****  
  
I awake but I don't open my eyes. My head hurts and I'd rather go back to sleep. For a split second everything is okay, then I'm awake enough to remember last night and my heart clenches. I bolt upright. My eyes scan the unfamiliar surroundings. Where am I? What happened? I take in the sights of a disheveled bedroom that clearly isn't mine until my eyes fall upon it's owner. Zeke is lying on the floor, casually flipping through a magazine.  
  
"Zeke..." My voice comes out as a shakey whisper  
  
His eyes roll in my direction. "Hey you're up." he says, lifting himself to a sitting position.  
  
I look to the window. The sun is shinning like any other day, totally ignorant of how fucked yesterday was. "What time is it?" I manage to mutter, my voice still making me sound like I'm not awake.  
  
"Almost noon."  
  
I jump out of bed. "Shit! What about school?!"  
  
Zeke stands and grabs me by the shoulders. "Relax, Taken care of. I called your 'rents last night and told them you were sleeping here. The school will just think that you're sick or something."  
  
"Last night..." I sink back onto the bed, holding back the tears I feel building up. "I don't even remember-" I want to say "how I got here" but I can't finish the sentence. My throat tightens.  
  
Zeke sighs and sits next to me on the bed. "Do you wanna know?" He asks. I nod, looking at the floor so I don't have to look him in the eye.  
  
"After I got out of detention, I found you and Stan by my car."  
  
"Stan?!"  
  
"Yeah. He's the one who found you before coach could. He told me that a bunch of guys from the team they" he faltered, as if he was choosing his words carefully "made you, you know-they forced you to take" Zeke shrugged and gave up "Shit, I am so sorry. It's all my fault." Zeke burried his face in his hands.  
  
I place my hand on his back. "It's ok. I don't blame you. Not at all." It's weird seeing Zeke like this.  
  
Zeke turns to look at me. His eyes are red but he isn't crying. "You should. I made it. It's my-" he breaks off again and stares blankly ahead of him.  
  
"Zeke, you didn't have to help me last night but you did. You didn't have to get me and Stokes patched up but you did that too. You've helped me out more than you think. Plus, that stuff of yours did help us save the world once."  
  
He laughs softly. "You want some aspirin or something?"  
  
"Please? My head is killing me." I smile. He leaves the room, returning shortly with a glass of water and two white pills. I take them gratefully.  
  
He stands accross from me and leans against the wall. "Are you ok?" he asks  
  
"Yeah, they didn't hurt me too bad. the bruises will go away in a couple days."  
  
"That's not what I meant."  
  
"I know. I was just really trying not to think about it." I stare out the window again. Zeke isn't saying anything just giving me time. "It really sucks me being me sometimes but last night...it hurts..the humiliation, the pain, the hate...I'm scared almost all the time, wondering when someone will push me too far, until I either snap or break."  
  
"You're stronger than you think, Casey."  
  
I stare at him. "Is it always going to be like this?"  
  
Zeke smiles sardonically "Just until graduation. Kids in public schools are always labelled. Since first grade we've had our parts to play. I've always been the guy who can get you stuff, Stan was always a jock, team or not, and Deliliah's always been ms. popularity. It all depends on our first day of school. There's no escaping it. Not until we graduate, move far away from here to someplace nobody knows your name, then you can be who you are."  
  
"What if I get out there and don't know who I am anymore?"  
  
"Then you make yourself. You make yourself who you are, everyday. You decide it."  
  
I smile again, an honest grin. "day at a time, huh? What are you, a poet?"  
  
Zeke smiles back "sometimes."  
  
"Keep your day job, then." I mutter.  
  
He ignores the comment and digs through a pile of clothes until he pulls out the remote for his cd player. Zeke gestures to the cd player. "Rasputina," he informs me. As the song starts, I think. I know he's right. It's not like there's anything I can do to make this stop. Not on my own. I just have to deal with it until graduation. One day at a time.  
  
"against my will it hurts me still it really stings they clipped my wings what could I do? everything's new how my knees lock how will I walk? now that they're gone I feel strong I say ooh, they did get in my way so I will learn to walk today." -Rasputina "clipped"  
  
*****  
  
ya know this chapter kinda seems to me like a mix of speeches from the Shawshank Redemption, Ghost World, and A Clockwork Orange. Well, that's it. Hope you liked, sorry if you didn't. My muse is forcing me to move on to other genres. So far I have a couple things planned, an x-men fic, An lotr parody, and I need to start some Poison Elves fiction cause this site has *none*. Thanks for reading!! 


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